


Windows are Perfectly Acceptable Entrances

by AnotherFan (imagine_asagao)



Category: The Adventure Zone (Podcast)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, M/M, One Shot, a cute college au one shot, that’s it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-22
Updated: 2020-03-22
Packaged: 2021-02-28 17:34:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,713
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23261074
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/imagine_asagao/pseuds/AnotherFan
Summary: Indrid did not know much about his loud, partying neighbor.  Some late night shenanigans on the roof change that.
Relationships: Indrid Cold/Duck Newton
Comments: 2
Kudos: 57





	Windows are Perfectly Acceptable Entrances

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for my friend Clara, and it’s very loosely based on true events. I ended up writing most of it in one night after starting it months ago, whoops

Indrid Cold awoke with a start. It only took a few moments for him to realize why he woke up: there were people outside his wondow. He rolled over to look at his clock on the nightstand. Three am. Who in their right mind was wandering on the roof at three in the morning? Upon actually listening to the commotion outside, it quickly became clear that they were drunk. He sighed and rolled onto his back, determined to ignore the group stomping around on the roof, talking in voices that they probably thought were whispers.

His plan to ignore the group failed as he heard footsteps approaching his window. It sounded like only one person, staggering towards the window, probably because the person mistook his window for their own. This was proven by the person outside saying “Yeah, I’ll see yall later, I’m goin’ to my room.” It was this moment, of course, that Indrid remembered that he had left his window open.

Indrid stood up to close the window just as the person stumbled into his room. For a while, he and the stranger just stood there staring at each other. Next door neighbor, next door neighbor… Who was his next door neighbor? The cloudy night didn’t give enough moonlight for him to have any visual clues. It was some kind of bird… Raven? Pigeon? Duck?

“What’re you doin’ in my room?” Duck (he was pretty sure it was Duck) asked. “Is it about the rumors they started up? Listen, there’s no truth in ‘em, I swear, they just-”

“This is my room,” Indrid said coldly.

“No it ain’t,” Duck said, wandering farther into Indrid’s room. “See, right there, there’s a poster of- Oh…”

“Thank you for establishing that this is not your room, now would you please get out of my room?” Indrid said, his thin patience wearing out thinner and thinner.

“Yep, I’ll just be on my way,” Duck said, headed for the door. Indrid closed it behind him and locked it, sighing. Maybe now he could finally sleep.

The sun woke Indrid up. Of course it did. It always did. But his blinds were broken and the blanket he had put up had been torn down when Duck entered his room, and Indrid hadn’t been bothered to put it back up yet. He sighed and rolled on his side to grab his phone. It was Sunday, a week after Duck had entered his room, and Indrid had discretely checked the nametag on the dorm next to him to confirm. The noise that came through the thin walls was considerably less than it normally was. Not that Indrid was paying attention, it’s just easy to notice a distinct lack of noise when your neighbor isn’t keeping you up until two in the morning making margaritas or bringing anyone over to spend the night.

Eventually, Indrid admitted that he had to get up. It was still early enough that he could shower in peace, with everyone else still asleep. It seemed to hold true when he entered the bathroom, but when he finished showering, his luck ran out, and someone else entered the bathroom. The person cleared his throat.

“Uh, hi… Indrid…” the person said. Indrid froze. He didn’t recognize the voice. “Anyways, I just wanted t’ say sorry for the other night.” Duck? Was it Duck? Indrid finished drying off and put his clothes on and stepped out of the shower. Yep, it was Duck.

“It was fine, not a disruption at all,” Indrid lied, just hoping to get out of there.

“No, it wasn’t fine, and I know it was a disruption. I’d like to make it up to you,” Duck said.

“How, by inviting me to one of your parties?” Indrid rolled his eyes. Duck winced.

“I am also sorry for how loud we can get… My friends sometimes get a little out of control,” Duck said, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Not just your friends,” Indrid said without thinking. As soon as he realized what he said, his eyes went wide and he clamped his mouth shut. Duck went red.

“Yeah, uh, sorry about that too…” he said. “But that’s not how I plan to make it up to you. You draw, right? Put some of your sketches on your door? How would you like to go to the museum?”

Now, being an artist with free admission to the museum, Indrid had gone to it several times. However, this time a cute (if sometimes frustrating and annoying) boy was asking him to the museum, and he did seem genuinely sorry and wanting to make it up to him, so…

“Sounds good to me,” Indrid replied.

This wasn’t a date. This was not a date. So why was Indrid so worried about what he looked like? To be fair, it  _ was _ a variation of his normal outfit: jeans, black shirt, sweater, his signature glasses, but it was a slightly nicer version, with a fitted tank top and cuffed jeans and a long cardigan. Indrid looked in the mirror and sighed. It’s not like he was looking to impress Duck, it was just… This was the first time in so long that a boy had shown any sort of interest in him. He wasn’t exactly most people’s type, and coming from a small town made things difficult to say in the least.

A knock at the door brought Indrid out of his thoughts. He gave one last look at his outfit before grabbing his phone and wallet and opening the door. Duck stood there, also dressed in his normal look but also slightly nicer, unless Indrid was mistaken.

“Are you ready to go to the museum?” Duck asked.

“Yep,” Indrid said, locking his door.

The walk to the bus stop was pretty quiet. Neither wanted to be the first to talk and say something wrong. So neither of them said anything. It made waiting for the bus really awkward, just standing there in silence, but that was better than being judged. And so they stood in silence, waiting for the bus.

“So what’s your favorite part of the museum?” Duck eventually asked, as they were about to enter it.

“The moving exhibition. Currently it’s on accessibility, and I really want to see it,” Indrid said. “What about you?”

“I really like the ones with moving parts. Really uh… really creates a… statement…” Duck said.

“I had heard about how terrible of a liar you are. I didn’t believe it until just now,” Indrid teased. Duck quickly moved to open the door for Indrid. “Oh, thank you.”

“No problem,” Duck muttered. “And okay, you got me, I like it because it’s really interesting to watch them, and I don’t always understand the appeal of looking’ at something that isn’t moving.”

“That’s perfectly fine. Not all art is for everyone. Maybe you can learn to at least appreciate art that stays still,” Indrid said as they walked to the desk.

“I’d need a teacher for that,” Duck said.

“Good thing I’m here.”

Their time at the museum flew by. At the beginning, they mostly talked about art, with Indrid telling Duck about the different art styles and sometimes even stories about specific paintings or artists. Then Duck started talking about what he liked and disliked about various pieces of art in the museum. That quickly veered into general likes and dislikes, which opened up the door to more stories until the two of them were talking freely. Indrid did have to admit that it was some of the most fun he had had at the museum.

Eventually they ran out of unexplored museum to wander through. “There’s an ice cream place nearby, d’ you want to go?” Duck asked.

“Yes, that would be nice,” Indrid said. The two of them walked there.

“D’ you want to… Do you want to maybe share a milkshake?” Duck asked, not meeting Indrid’s eyes.

“Sure. What flavor?” Indrid asked.

“Whatever you want,” Duck said.

“Does chocolate work for you?” Indrid said.

“Yeah, chocolate’s good,” Duck said as he reached for his wallet.

“What are you doing?” Indrid asked.

“I asked you to ice cream, so I should pay for it,” Duck said.

“I can pay for it, too,” Indrid said.

“Yeah, but I want to do this,” Duck said.

“Fine,” Indrid said. If a cute (sometimes annoying but also very sweet) boy was going to offer to pay for a milkshake, he wouldn’t say no.

They got their milkshake and sat down in a booth. “So what did you think of the museum?” Indrid asked.

“I liked it. I get why people go to museums for fun now,” Duck said.

“What was your favorite piece?” Indrid asked.

“The piece with the mothman,” Duck said.

“What? But there wasn’t a piece with the mothman.” At least, Indrid couldn’t think of any.

“You drew it. At the beginning of the semester. Currently hanging on your door.” Duck studied the table intently. Indrid blinked in surprise.

“Oh. So it is indeed. But that’s not your favorite piece.”

“Yes it is. I… uh… I kinda saw you draw it? Outside the cafe on campus? And it was so cool to watch you draw it, to make this image out of nothing. It looked like a photo, and it was so cool to just see it happen.”

“Oh.” Indrid couldn’t think of any other way to respond.

“Anyways, sorry, that was weird, what was your favorite piece?” Duck said, his whole face red.

“No, it wasn’t weird, it just wasn’t what I was expecting,” Indrid admitted. “And my favorite piece was the statue by Saint-Gaudens because it reminded me of you.”

“The war hero dude?” Duck risked looking up.

“Yes, because he’s strong and powerful and being led by Victory.” Now it was Indrid’s turn to look at the table.

“And if that statue wanted to maybe asked a cute guy on an actual date, would the cute guy say yes?” Duck asked.

“Well, he is being led by Victory,” Indrid said.

“Hey ‘Drid?” Duck asked. “Do you want to go on a date with me? Like a proper date, not whatever half-date this is?” He smiled hesitantly.

“I would very much like that, Duck,” Indrid replied, smiling back.


End file.
